Dreaming
by donnaann55
Summary: Quinn tells Kurt that she has dreams about him.Kurt/Quinn. Eventual Kurt/Blaine
1. Chapter 1 Quinn's Problem

**Dreaming**

**Author's Note: Prequel to It Takes Three**

**Time Line: Season 2. Kurt meets Blaine, but never transfers to Dalton.**

**Chapter 1: Quinn's Problem**

"Great, Kurt!" Mr. Schue smiled at the countertenor. "OK, guys, that's your assignment for next week." A nod of thanks to the musicians, and he walked out of the choir room.

Quinn hung back while the other kids filed out, excitedly or in Puck's case, not so excitedly, talking about the assignment. The room emptied out, until only she and Kurt remained. The blonde walked down the risers watching Rachel's nemesis as he packed his sheet music away.

"Hey, Kurt, can I talk to you?"

Kurt zipped his messenger bag closed, and shouldered the strap, smiling at the Cheerio. "Sure, Quinn, what's up?"

Quinn hesitated. She glanced around the empty room, playing nervously with her hair. Quinn didn't do nervous, not that Kurt had ever seen. She did superior, she did you're-lucky-I'm-talking-to-you, she did downright mean, but she didn't do nervous. _Merde! Please, please don't tell me you're pregnant, again! _Kurt waited, his shoulders tensing, as her anxiety transferred to him. _This couldn't be good. _His eyes flicked to the open classroom door, hoping for someone, anyone …

Quinn wrapped her arms around the books she was carrying, clutching tight, holding herself more than the books. She forced herself to meet Kurt's gaze directly, no flinching. "I think about you all the time. I can't stop thinking about you. At school, I can't focus on anything. I spend the whole day just waiting to see you, in the hallways, in class, in glee...and then, when I see you, I can't breathe."

The blonde looked down at the floor, and lowered her voice until she was almost whispering. Kurt leaned closer to hear her.

"When you sing, it's even worse." Quinn stared up at Kurt again. They were standing very close now.

"When you sing, your voice seeps into my skin. Sometimes I don't even hear the words, I just feel you, and everything disappears, and there's just you..." She finally stopped speaking and just stared at Kurt, waiting ...

Kurt stared back, motionless, rigid with shock. He blinked, and backed away from her. He looked around the room, looking everywhere but at the blonde Cheerio. "Quinn, I don't..."

Quinn rushed to interrupt him. "I know you're not interested. I know you're not going to ever be interested." She looked down, clearly embarrassed, and then raised her eyes to Kurt's. "I just thought if I said it out loud, if I told you, that I would hear how insane this is...and believe me, I know it's insane, and then maybe I could get over it."

Turning away from Kurt, she muttered to herself. "God, I hope I get over it!"

At the classroom door, she turned, and looked over at countertenor still frozen by the piano. "It's really bad at night, because then, I dream about you."

She walked out. Eyes on the door the Cheerio had disappeared through; hand trailing along the edge of the piano, Kurt felt his way to the piano bench, and crumpled onto it. Holy Alexander McQueen! That did not just happen!


	2. Chapter 2 Kurt's Problem

**Chapter 2: Kurt's Problem**

Kurt sat in his Navigator, in his drive way, staring through the windshield, seeing nothing. He had no memory of the drive home from school. The Head Cheerio's words were an ever circling sound loop in his head. He was officially in an alternate universe. There was no other possible explanation.

Quinn? Really? Finn's Quinn! Puck's Quinn! Head cheerleader Quinn! Quinn liked him, as in, LIKED him! He banged his head on the steering wheel a few times, and then flipped the visor down to fix his hair. Just because the world, as he knew it, was unravelling, didn't mean he should have bad hair. This is CRAZY! She's CRAZY! Kurt grabbed his bag and finally climbed out of the car, slamming the car door. Getting out his house key, he walked to his front door, muttering to himself. "Just Crazy!"

It was a strange weekend for Kurt. He did the usual things; shopped with Mercedes, beat Finn at Guitar Hero, worked on his Glee assignment. He did all the usual things but nothing felt, at all, usual.

He really wanted to talk to Mercedes about the whole "Quinn" thing. He didn't know what he was supposed to do. This was totally outside the realm of any experience he had ever had. If it had been a boy, standing by the piano last Friday at Glee, telling him that he "LIKED" him. That would have been surprising enough, but this...this was way too weird! Just his luck, someone finally admits to an undying passion for him and it had to be a girl!

The whole time he and Mercedes were at the mall, the words were right there ready to tumble out, but he just couldn't bring himself to say them. He felt that it would be betraying a confidence. The Cheerio hadn't said, "Don't tell anyone", but he was pretty sure that was implied.

Late Sunday night, after thinking in circles all weekend, Kurt decided that he had to talk to Quinn. Just what he was going to say ... he had no freaking idea!

Kurt was uncomfortable; he wanted to get this conversation over with. The bell for first period rang and he was the first one out the classroom door. Moving through the halls, like a guided missile, he found Quinn at her locker. Closing her locker door, Quinn turned. Surprise flashed across her face, and she blushed, not quite looking at him.

Kurt took a deep breath, and unplanned words tumbled out. "What can I do? How can I help you?"

Eyes flashing with anger, Quinn spit words at him. "You can stop being so fucking beautiful!"

Kurt blinked and backed away from Quinn, the pain in her voice silencing him.

She reached out and touched Kurt's arm. "Sorry, sorry, it's not your fault. Just forget I said anything." She turned and slipped through the crowd of students.


	3. Chapter 3 Too Weird

**Chapter 3: Too Weird**

Glee, that afternoon, was just too weird. Quinn sat in the back row, on her own. Rachel sang and everyone tuned out. Mercedes and Tina did an interesting duet, their voices blending well together.

When Kurt took his turn at the front of the class, he couldn't help but look over at Quinn. She was looking right at him. Their eyes met for a second and then she looked away, flushed and tense. Kurt usually lost himself in the music and the lyrics, but today as he sang, he was very aware of Quinn watching him. Her words from last Friday were printed in capital letters on the back of his brain. "When you sing, it's worse; there's just you." Too freaking weird!

11:38 pm, and Kurt was not sleeping. He was doing exactly what he'd been doing for days now. He was listening to Quinn's voice in his head. Specifically, the words she spoke just before she walked out of the choir room. "It's really bad at night, because then I dream about you."

Dream about you, dream about you, dream about you ... the words circled before his eyes, scrabble pieces against the black of his closed eyelids. The tiles morphed into a new configuration, and Kurt's eyes flew open in the dark of his bedroom. Dream what? Exactly what had Quinn been dreaming?

Kurt sat up in bed, and snapped his bedside lamp on. Quinn's dreams were her own, and none of his business, of course. But she couldn't just blurt out something like that and expect him not to be curious. He was. He was very curious. I mean, how often does someone tell you that they dream about you?

Absolutely positive that he was doing the wrong thing; that he was poking at Pandora's Box, Kurt did it anyway. He grabbed his phone off the night table, and scrolled down to Quinn's name. He keyed in a text message and hit send before he could change his mind.

**From Kurt: what do U dream?**

He stared at the phone, willing a response. Nothing. Maybe she was asleep. Whatever! He probably didn't want to know anyway.

Pushing his covers back, he got out of bed, and padded to his ensuite. Yawning, returning to bed, he found his phone vibrating. He hit the message icon, as he slid back under the covers.

**From Quinn: different things**

**From Kurt: like what?**

**From Quinn: sometimes they're happy, easy we're walking down the halls at school holding hands, or arguing over songs or clothes**

**From Kurt: and other times?**

**From Quinn: I can't tell you about those**

Kurt rolled his eyes, not that she could see him.

**From Kurt: I'm in those dreams, who else R U going to tell?**

**From Quinn: true**

**From Kurt: so?**

**From Quinn: sometimes we're alone, in your room**

**From Kurt: and?**

**From Quinn: I call those dreams the word dreams**

**From Kurt: what? why?**

**From Quinn: because in those dreams, when we're alone, in your room, we play a game. There are rules. I'm only allowed to say certain words.**

**From Kurt: like what?**

**From Quinn: I'm only allowed to say, yes or please, Kurt**

Kurt dropped the phone. What? Oh, my god! What? Scrabbling among the bed sheets, he finally grabbed the phone.

**From Kurt: night, Quinn**

Very carefully, he put the phone down on his bedside table; very, very carefully, as if he was handling a ticking bomb. Switching the lamp on his bedside table off, Kurt buried his head under his pillow. Oh, sweet Christian Dior! This is what happened when you played with Pandora's Box. Holy Alexander McQueen! There was no going back now. Rolling onto his side, he groaned. He was never going to be able to sleep now!

But, eventually, he did sleep. In his dream, he stood behind Quinn, at her locker. He leaned down, until his lips almost touched her ear, and whispered, "Say yes, Quinn." Music blared through the hallways...

Kurt's alarm went off, playing his favourite iTune of the week. Kurt woke up, his heart jumping in his chest. He stumbled to the washroom and stared at himself in the mirror, touching the bags under his eyes. Definitely going to need the cover up stick today! That girl, was not only crazy, she was making him crazy too. Plus she was ruining his sleep and his complexion!

He had to do something about Quinn!


	4. Chapter 4 Kurt Has an Idea

**Chapter 4: Kurt Has an Idea**

They circled each other at school, very carefully not talking. Hyper aware of each other, they worked very hard to make sure they never ended up next to each other. They both made a major effort to forget this weird thing between them.

And neither one of them forgot for a second. Every time Kurt sang in Glee, he felt Quinn watching him. When she wasn't looking, he watched her. He became an expert on Quinn Fabray; how she sat, how she crossed her legs, how she brushed the hair away from her face, how her eyes got soft and unfocused when he sang to her...wait, he sang to Quinn? Ah, merde! He had to stop this, this...whatever this was!

Suddenly, the blonde was everywhere, at school, at home. Even in the privacy of his room, as he flipped through the pages of Vogue, checking out the clothes and the male models, she was there. Her eyes stared up at him from the page...teasing him, daring him, waiting for him. He was really going to kill that girl!

Thursday, when Mr. Shue dismissed Glee and the kids shot out of the choir room, Kurt stepped next to the blonde, and motioned for her to wait.

When the last backpack cleared the door, Quinn turned to him, a question in her eyes.

Kurt examined the blonde, looking for any sign that she was over this madness. "Is it any better now?"

Quinn just looked at him blankly. "What?"

Kurt fidgeted, his fingers playing with the strap of his messenger bag. "You know, you thought if you told me, it would get better, wear off...so, is it better?"

Quinn dropped her eyes and sighed, shaking her head. "No, sorry."

She looked up at him and smiled sheepishly, shrugging. "I think it's getting worse. I actually count how many articles of clothing you wear."

Kurt shook his head. He had to have heard that wrong. "What?"

"You know, so I know how many things I have to take off you before I can get to your skin." The Head Cheerio didn't wait for Kurt to say anything. She sidled past him and escaped into the hallway.

OK, he so didn't have to know that! Really, who knew the President of the Celibacy Club, had such a mind? If she was like this with Finn, no wonder she made him crazy!

But she wasn't like this with Finn. Kurt knew this because Finn used to whine on his shoulder about all his Quinn problems. Kurt would remember if Finn had ever mentioned anything like this!

Why him? OK, scratch that, that's the only part that made sense. He knew he was fabulous. Not that anyone at McKinley had ever seemed to notice that before, certainly not Quinn Fabray.

Why was he, her personal pin-up boy, all of sudden? It was bad enough that she was dreaming about him. But now, he was dreaming about her, and thinking about her, and staring at her. He just wanted to punch something!

Kurt grabbed his bag, shook his hair back into place, and headed out to the school parking lot. He sat behind the wheel, staring at nothing. Finally, he gathered himself together and turned the key in the ignition. Driving home, his mind worked on the 'Quinn' problem.

Now, he knew how Blaine felt after that kiss with Rachel. He never thought this would happen to him. Wait, Blaine... he hadn't thought about Blaine all week. Not since this whole crazy thing with Quinn started. And that was just all over wrong, because Blaine was his default setting. He'd thought about that boy every free minute since the first time he'd seen him.

Blaine ... suddenly Kurt had the answer. Rachel had kissed Blaine again after the party, this time with no alcohol, and that had ended his confusion. So, all he had to do was take this thing, whatever it was between them, out of their heads, act on it in the real world and the crazy would end. A lot of things sounded good in theory, or in imagination, but in reality, not so much. That's what this was, something that when let loose in the real world, would fizzle and die away.

At home, Kurt paced his room, working out a plan. Then he did his homework, had dinner, and went through his nightly moisturizing routine. He finally felt like himself again. This would work, he was sure of it. The last thing he did, before turning off his light, was text Quinn.

**To Quinn: ****Meet me at my car, tomorrow after school**

Friday, at McKinley, dragged on forever. Kurt waited impatiently for Quinn, leaning against his car. Too excited to stand still, he tapped his feet to an imaginary beat. This would work. This was so going to work, and then this ridiculous Quinn thing would be over.

Quinn and Santana come out of the school together, laughing. Quinn walked over to Kurt, smiling. "Hey, Kurt."

Kurt unlocked the car, threw his bag into the back seat and motioned for the blonde to get in. "I thought you were never going to come out, what took you so long?"

Quinn walked around to the passenger door and got in. As she buckled her seat belt, she looked over at Kurt, surprised at his urgency. "What's the rush? I was just talking to San."

Kurt didn't answer her. He checked his rear view mirror, backed out of the parking space and drove out of the parking lot. "My father's working late tonight. We're going to my place and we're going to figure this thing out. Whatever this thing..." Kurt waved his hand between the two of them. "...is, and we're going to fix it, so we can go back to normal."

Quinn sighed and looked down at her hands, twisting them in her lap. "I've tried, Kurt. God, do you think I haven't tried? I know this is nuts. I don't understand it. One minute you were this boy in Glee Club with a nice voice and great style. The next minute you were making me hyperventilate! I don't know what happened."

Kurt grinned at her. "I don't have a 'nice' voice. I have an amazing voice!"

Quinn rolled her eyes. "Ok, you have an amazing voice." She couldn't help smiling at him.

Kurt reached over and squeezed her hand. "Don't worry. I've got an idea."


	5. Chapter 5 The Plan

**Chapter 5: The Plan**

They didn't say anything else, as they drove to Kurt's place. Walking down the stairs to Kurt's room, Quinn started to freak out. This was all just a little too much like one of her dreams. She didn't say anything to Kurt. If he had an idea that could fix this mess, she wanted to hear it.

The countertenor closed his bedroom door, and threw his bag by the desk. He motioned for the Cheerio to sit on the bed. Dragging his desk chair over to the bed, he sat facing the blonde.

"OK, look, remember Rachel's party a few months ago? Remember we all played Spin the Bottle?"

Quinn nodded, mystified, she didn't see where this was going.

Kurt smoothed his already perfect hair, a nervous gesture. "Rachel kissed Blaine, remember?"

Quinn nodded again. "Yeah."

"OK, what you probably don't know, is that Blaine freaked out over that kiss and started doubting his sexuality. He was very conflicted for a few days, until Rachel kissed him again, and everything fell into place for him."

Quinn nodded slowly. "Ok, but what has that got to do with us?"

Kurt got up and started to pace the room. "Look, this thing between us, it's not real. First, it was just in your mind. Then you told me, and now, it's in both our minds, making us crazy. But it's not real. We've never touched each other. We've never even kissed each other."

Kurt stopped pacing. He squatted down so that he was on eye level with Quinn, and took her hands in his. "I think if we actually do any of that stuff you've dreamed, the bubble will pop and the insanity will be over. What do you think?

Quinn slid her hands out of Kurt's, and stood up. Now, it was her turn to pace. The countertenor sat on the bed watching her, letting her work it through. The blonde stopped and turned to face him. "I don't know, Kurt. Do you think it would work? Really?"

Kurt shrugged, and raised his hands in a 'who knows' gesture. He shook his head. "I don't know but I think it's worth a try, anything to stop the dreams."

Quinn's head popped up in surprise. "Wait, you're dreaming too?"

Kurt put his hand up in the universal sign for stop. "Yes, and don't even bother to ask what my dreams are, exactly, because I'm not going to tell you."

Quinn walked over to the bed and plopped down beside Kurt, exasperated. "But that's not fair, I told you."

Kurt looked at her. "Yeah, and look where that got us. We don't need any more crazy."

Quinn sighed. "Yeah, you're right, point taken." She looked directly into Kurt's eyes. "You sure you want to do this?"

Kurt nodded. "Yes, I am."

Quinn stared around the room for a second, and then looked at Kurt. "How do we do this?"

Kurt stood up, took Quinn's hands and pulled her to her feet. "Your dreams, how do they start?"

Quinn stared down at their entwined hands, and looked up at Kurt. "We're here in your room. You close the door. You put your hand under my chin, and raise my head, so that I'm looking into your eyes."

Kurt tipped Quinn's head up, two fingers curled under her chin. "And?"

Quinn couldn't look at Kurt, turning pink with embarrassment. "You say, 'Remember the rules, Quinn' and then you kiss me."

Kurt did remember the rules. Quinn's dream rules had been keeping him up at night. He tucked a lock of the blonde's hair behind her ear, and leaned into her. Just like in his dreams, he whispered, "Say, Yes, Quinn."

Quinn looked up at the countertenor, eyes gone all wide and soft. "Yes".

Kurt wrapped his arms around the blonde, tilted her head, and took her lips. Her lips quivered under his, warm and soft. He nibbled on her bottom lip, and she opened for him. Quinn moaned and pulled Kurt closer. One hand threaded into his hair. The other slid under the hem of his shirt, and stroked his back. Quinn closed her eyes, and moaned low in her throat.

Kurt broke the kiss, surprised to find his hand clamped to Quinn's hip, pulling her against him. "Quinn?"

Kurt shook the blonde gently. "Quinn? What happens next? In your dream, Quinn, what happens next?"

Quinn's eyes were dazed. Reality and her dream world were merging. Her fingers trembled as she unbuttoned her blouse.

Kurt watched in astonishment, as she took her blouse off, dropped it on the floor. Her fingers curled into his shirt, as she clung to him, looking up at him from under her lashes. "Please, Kurt".

Kurt groaned and pulled the Cheerio tight against him. He clenched his hand in her hair, and tilted her head to a better angle. He kissed his way down her neck and across her collar-bone. Quinn unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it off his shoulders. The countertenor stepped back, shrugged out of his shirt and gathered her close again.

Quinn kissed over his chest, rubbing her face against his skin. She brushed his nipples, and nipped at his shoulder. One hand wandered his back, traced his spine, and dug into his waist.

Kurt's fingers traced Quinn's collar-bone, as he opened his mouth wider over hers, forcing her head back. The blonde moaned and locked her body to Kurt's. She wrapped her arms around his waist, and kissed her way across his chest. She licked over his nipples, biting first one and then other. She looked up at Kurt, worried that he wouldn't be okay with this.

Kurt tightened the hand in Quinn's hair, dragging her mouth back to his chest. Tongue and teeth on one nipple, Quinn worked the other with her fingers. Kurt moaned and gathered her even closer, her head craddled against his chest.

Quinn moved down his chest, nipping at his ribs, sucking his skin into her mouth, rubbing her face into him, running her tongue over his navel. Quinn's chin hit Kurt's belt. She stopped and dropped to her knees, her hands on Kurt's hips.

"Please, Kurt."

The words were whisper soft, but Kurt heard them. He opened his eyes and stared down at the blonde on her knees in front of him. He blinked, trying to focus, something was wrong here. But his hormones were screaming at him, and he just didn't care.

Quinn fumbled with his belt, and zipper. She pushed the denim and boxers down over his hips. She pressed her cheek against his thigh, and nuzzled into him. Mind shut down, and body on automatic pilot, Kurt tried to widen his stance and found his legs locked in place by the jeans still hugging his thighs. Frustrated, and impatient, he kicked his shoes off. Quinn sat back on her heels and watched as he stepped out of his jeans, and boxers, and stripped off his socks. In one fluid motion she stood up, grabbed his arm and tugged him over to the bed. One push and Kurt was sitting on the mattress, Quinn on her knees between his legs.

They both watched as Quinn slowly ran her hands up Kurt's legs, from knee to thigh. She stroked his inner thighs, hesitant. She had never wanted to do this with Finn, and that one time with Puck had been more about him touching her, so this was unknown territory. She looked up and found Kurt staring down at his lap, watching her hands on him. Her hands stilled and Kurt looked at her, his eyes …oh, god, his eyes! It was all there in his eyes; trepidation, shock, yes, but overpowering both, want. He wanted this and Quinn needed to give him whatever he wanted.

Quinn lowered her head and blew one long whisper over Kurt's cock. She had no idea what she was doing but knowing that Kurt was just as new to this as she was gave her courage. Her hands still pressed into the V join between Kurt's body, and the top of his inner thigh, she stroked the side of his cock with her thumbs. Leaning down, she licked one line from tip to base. Kurt hissed, and his fingers clutched at the comforter.

Kurt wasn't anywhere near as surprised as Quinn was. She rubbed her cheek along one side, and then the other. So soft, so soft the skin! She had no idea. Kurt's cock felt amazing and she wanted more. She rolled her tongue around the head and sucked it in. She licked and without even thinking about it, one hand curled around the base. Her lips and tongue played over the head while her fingers fluttered over the so silken skin.

Kurt bent over her, his head brushing hers, his hands digging into her shoulders. Quinn's tongue teased at the slit, drops spilling onto her tongue. She bobbed her head lower and lower, taking more of Kurt in. Quinn listened to Kurt. He didn't say a word but she heard him anyway. She heard the gasps, and moans. She slid her lips as far down his shaft as she could; flattening her tongue, stroking the hard length. She swirled her tongue and bobbed her head, in time to his breathing.

Kurt's fingers clamped down on Quinn's shoulders, his head snapped back, his whole body went rigid. He came, short hard jerks, pulsing heat into Quinn's mouth.

She wrapped her arms around Kurt's waist and laid her head on his thigh. Minutes ticked by and neither one of them moved or said a word. Quinn stroked Kurt's leg, absently. He ran his fingers through her hair.

Eventually, the blonde looked up at the countertenor, her head still resting on his thigh. "So, did that work out the way you thought it would?"

Kurt sighed. "Not exactly."


	6. Chapter 6 Friends

**Chapter 6: Friends**

It had been 3 weeks since the evening of the "Grand Plan". It hadn't worked out exactly as Kurt had thought it would, but things were definitely better with Quinn.

The dreams had stopped, for both of them, thank God! They no longer circled each other at school like wary sharks. They were comfortable with each other now, closer than they had been before, actually. They hung out after school, and shopped with Mercedes on the weekends.

They were not dating. Kurt was very clear on the not dating. He didn't want to be Quinn's boyfriend. He wanted his own boyfriend! They talked about personal things that they would never, have even considered, sharing with each other before. Quinn told Kurt that she wondered sometimes, about the baby she had given up...what she looked like now, if she was happy. Kurt told Quinn about his frustration with the whole "let's just be friends" thing with Blaine. They were close. They trusted each other. They were friends now. Not quite the same kind of friendship he had with Mercedes, though...

Quinn and Kurt sat in the Hummel living room on Saturday night, a bowl of popcorn between them, watching a Twilight marathon.

Burt poked his head into the room, jingling car keys in his hand. "I'm off to pick up Carole. We're going to dinner. See you guys later."

Quinn smiled at Burt. "Bye, Mr. Hummel".

"Bye, Dad. Have fun." Kurt called as his father headed out the door.

As the credits rolled, the Head Cheerio and the Glee diva argued the merits of the leading men. Quinn was a "Team Edward" girl all the way, but Kurt was impressed with Jake's muscles.

"You can have Jacob, I'll take Edward." Quinn laughed and put the empty popcorn bowl down on the floor beside the couch, and dusted the salt off her fingers. "When will your dad be back?"

Kurt looked at his watch. "Two hours, probably."

Quinn smiled. "Time for a game?"

Kurt stood, and held his hand out to help Quinn up. "Definitely!"

As they walked down the hall, towards the stairs to Kurt's room in the basement, Quinn slipped her hand into Kurt's. He looked down at her, smiling as she skipped by his side. OK, she wasn't exactly skipping, but it was close.

Kurt opened his bedroom door and motioned Quinn inside. The blonde entered and turned to face the countertenor. He closed the door behind him, and leaned back against it, folding his arms across his chest. "We're not going to play the 'word' game tonight. We're going to try a new game, different rules."

Quinn's eyes sparked with excitement. She really liked their games. "OK, what rules?"

Aqua eyes stared directly into green, as the Glee diva explained the new rules. "You can 'say' anything you want, but, you can't 'do' anything you want. You can only do what I tell you to do". Kurt raised his hands, his fingers sketching quotation marks in the air. "EXACTLY what I tell you to do."

Quinn nodded quickly, her cheekbones already starting to flush. "OK".

Kurt pushed away from the door, and walked over to stand in front of Quinn. They started the game the same way they always started their games. Kurt put his hand under Quinn's chin and lifted her face to his. "Remember the rules, Quinn."

Quinn smiled up at Kurt and whispered. "Yes."

The countertenor backed a few steps away from the blonde, looking her over. She was dressed casually in jeans, T-shirt, ballet flats. "Take your shoes off."

Quinn bent and slipped off her shoes. She straightened, eyes on the boy in front of her, waiting.

"Unzip your jeans."

Her fingers trembled slightly, but she got the zipper down.

"Put your hands on your hips. Slide your fingers inside your jeans and underwear. Push them down."

Kurt watched, as Quinn followed his instructions. When her jeans were lowered to the point that her hip bones were exposed, Kurt issued his next order.

"Stop. Turn around."

The Cheerio turned around, and stared down at the floor. It was so quiet that Kurt could hear the way her breathing had sped up.

"Push them all the way down, and kick them off."

Kurt stepped behind Quinn, and put his hands on her hips. He traced his fingers over the bones, and played with the indentations under them.

Quinn rolled her head back against Kurt's chest, melting under his hands. "Kurt, I want to touch you."

He didn't answer her. "Tilt your head."

Kurt ran his lips down the side of Quinn's neck. He moved her T-shirt aside so that he could reach her collar-bone.

He grabbed the hem of her T-shirt. "Raise you arms."

He pulled the T-shirt over her head, and off. "Now, you can turn around."

Quinn spun around and moved to hug Kurt but he caught her hands and shook his head.

Quinn dropped her eyes. "Sorry, I'm sorry, Kurt."

Kurt waited for her eyes to rise to his. "Undo my shirt."

Quinn opened his buttons quickly. She really wanted to touch him, but this time she waited, until Kurt nodded and then she pushed the shirt off his shoulders.

Kurt shrugged his shirt off. "Put your hands behind your back."

Quinn twined her fingers behind her back, twisting them together.

"Now, you can touch me."

As she started to move her hands, Kurt shook his head. "No, you can touch me but your hands have to stay behind your back."

It took a moment for Quinn to get it. Then she grinned up at Kurt and leaned into him. Her lips touched his skin and she sighed against him. She inhaled, loving Kurt's scent. He was smooth, and pale and perfect, and he always smelled like strawberries and cream.

The blonde moved her head back and forth; nibbling, kissing, and nipping. She stood on her toes to reach Kurt's nipples. He held her shoulders to steady her, and lowered his head to rest on top of hers. Eyes closed, he ran his hands over her shoulders and down her back. He played with her hips and ass. She circled his nipple with her tongue and bit him. Kurt gasped, grabbed Quinn's head, tipped it back, and kissed her. Quinn sank into the kiss, making little kitten sounds. She pulled her head away.

"Kurt, I need to touch you."

Kurt looked down at the blonde. Her lips were red, her eyes wide and pleading. The Quinn that all their friends would recognize; the McKinley student, Head Cheerleader, leader of the celibacy club and member of the glee club...that Quinn had long since 'left the building'. A very different Quinn was wrapped around him now. A Quinn that no one would recognize or even believe existed. Kurt loved finding this Quinn staring up at him from soft green eyes. He loved that together they'd found this secret Quinn.

"OK." Kurt whispered into Quinn's ear. "Now, you can move your hands."

Quinn's hands flew up, trailing over his shoulders, running down his sides, roaming his back. Now that she could finally touch him, she didn't want to stop. Quinn reached up and pulled Kurt's head down till their lips met.

They strained against each other, tongues thrusting, searching. She bit his bottom lip and he groaned into her mouth and pulled her tighter. Wrapping one arm around Kurt's waist, she slid the other between their bodies, between his legs. She pressed her hand over him.

Kurt thrust into her hand. He tore his mouth away from her lips and bit her, just at the curve where her neck met her shoulder. Quinn reached for Kurt's belt buckle, but Kurt took both of her hands and held them still at her waist.

He nodded towards the bed. "Lie down on the bed, Quinn."

As she stepped over to the bed, Kurt instructed. "Lie on your stomach."

Kurt crossed over to the bed and sat beside her. He moved her arms so that they were flat against the sheets, hands above her head. He leaned over Quinn. Placing his hand at the nape of her neck, he drew it slowly downward. He stopped when he reached her bra strap, unhooked it, and pushed the straps up, over her arms, and off.

With no bra strap in his way, he glided his hand slowly down Quinn's back, murmuring soft commands. "You have to stay very still, Quinn. Don't move. No matter what I do, you can't move until I say you can."

Kurt ghosted his hands over Quinn's hips, and lower back. His fingers played with the small dip at the bottom of her spine. "Do you hear me, Quinn?"

Quinn nodded her head, her hair spreading over the sheets. "Yes, I can't move until you tell me to."

Kurt straddled Quinn. Using both hands, he stroked her ass, caressing and kneading the flesh. The Head Cheerio purred under his hands. Kurt reached between Quinn's legs, spread her open and pressed his palm over her core. Quinn thrust her hips, pushing against Kurt's hand.

"Quinn!" His voice sharp, Kurt warned Quinn.

Quinn froze. Kurt waited. When he was satisfied that Quinn was still once again, he pushed his hand against Quinn, creating a steady rhythm. Quinn's mouth opened, little sounds escaping. Her fingers twisted the sheets. She tried very hard to keep still.

Maintaining the pulsing push against Quinn with one hand, Kurt sucked the middle finger of his other hand until it was wet. He traced down the crease of Quinn's buttocks until he felt what he was looking for. He pushed gently, slipping into Quinn's anus. Quinn's head came up off the bed, she turned her head to look back, eyes wide with surprise.

Kurt met her eyes. "Don't move, Quinn."

Quinn lowered her head and closed her eyes. Kurt moved both hands, he started a counter rhythm, first the left hand, then the right. Quinn was rigid. In an effort not to move, she locked her whole body.

"Kurt!"

Kurt lowered his head and brushed her back with his lips. "Shhhh! Not yet."

He changed the rhythm, now moving both hands at once. One hand pushed against Quinn, the other pushed into her, harder, deeper.

"KURT!" Quinn's voice was harsh with need, desperate.

Kurt bit his own lip. "Now, Quinn, now you can move."

Quinn created her own rhythm. She thrust her hips, pressed down against Kurt's fingers, grinding into his hand. Then she arched her back, pushing against the finger in her ass. They moved together, in sync, pushing against each other until the blonde threw her head back, keened a note as high as anything Rachel had ever sung, and stopped moving.

Kurt stretched out beside Quinn and flipped her over. He wanted to see this, this moment. Quinn's eyes were closed, her mouth slightly open. A pink flush covered her face and spread down across her chest. Her breathing was shallow and fast. Kurt reached over and tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear.

It took a few minutes, but eventually her brain started to function enough for her to form a coherent thought. "WOW!"

Kurt laughed. He trailed a hand down her body, between her breasts. He traced his fingers over her hip, and looked at Quinn from under his eyelashes. "Good game?"

Kurt Hummel hated the expression, "fuck buddies." He was not much fonder of, "friends with benefits". He preferred to think of Quinn as a "close" friend. "Close" being the operative word, suitably vague and open to interpretation.


	7. Chapter 7 Go For It

**Chapter 7: Go For It**

It had been a very frustrating week for Kurt. Blaine had been busy with school and the Warblers, so they had only managed coffee once. They texted all the time, but that wasn't enough. At least, it wasn't enough for Kurt. Blaine seemed fine with it.

Kurt was rapidly losing patience with the whole "Meg Ryan/Billy Crystal" stage they seemed to be stuck in. Dior! He fervently hoped it was just a stage. What if that was all that Blaine wanted? He certainly never gave any indication that he needed more than friendship from Kurt.

Spending time with Blaine, always looking for some clue, some hint, that the Dalton boy could possibly ever be attracted to him, was making Kurt crazy! Really, this didn't feel much different from mooning over Finn last year. Kurt felt just as hopeless, just as frustrated.

Like any other teenager, his hormones were alive and well, and demanding he let them out to play. The games he played with Quinn helped a little but they weren't even close to what he really wanted. In his mind they were just practice. Practice for what he wanted to do with Blaine, if he ever got the chance.

Kurt glanced at the clock on the classroom wall, willing the hands to move faster. He needed some retail therapy!

Mercedes and Quinn piled into Kurt's car, backpacks and books slung into the back of the Navigator. Done with McKinley until Monday, they were so outa there!

Kurt pulled out of the school parking lot. "OK, girls, where are we going?"

Not that there was a lot of choice. Lima Mall was nowhere near high-end enough for Kurt's taste, but they only had a few hours so it would have to do. Mercedes and Quinn had no problem with the local mall, they weren't as particular as Kurt.

Mercedes arranged herself sideways in the passenger seat, so that she could see both Kurt, beside her, and Quinn, in the back seat. "Macy's is having a sale. I got lucky there the last time we went."

Quinn nodded agreement. "Kay, then I want to check out Aeropostale."

Kurt checked the side view mirror, changed lanes. "I need some stuff at Sephora".

Two hours later, bags piled around them, the three McKinley students sat in the food court eating cinnamon buns, and drinking coffee. Well, the girls ate cinnamon buns. Kurt wouldn't consider putting such garbage in his body!

Their boy diva was not himself and the girls knew it. He had been calling it in all afternoon. As a test, Mercedes had picked a gold sequined top from a sales table and held it out to Kurt. No scathing remarks about Vegas impersonators, he hadn't even blinked an eye. Now, he sat staring into his coffee cup, not even commenting on the various hideously dressed people around them. Something was seriously wrong.

Mercedes looked at Quinn, and mouthed silently. "What?"

Quinn glanced at Kurt. He stared down into his cup, oblivious. She mouthed back to Mercedes. "Blaine".

Mercedes nodded, sat back in her chair and crossed her arms. "So, white boy, what are you going to do?"

Kurt's head snapped up and he stared at Mercedes. "What?"

Mercedes smirked at him. "Blaine, Kurt, what are you going to do about Blaine?"

Kurt frowned in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

Mercedes raised her eyebrows. "How long are you going to keep doing this to yourself?

The gospel choir girl waved her hands in the air, in time to the tune in her head, as she sang. "He likes me, he doesn't like me, he likes me, he doesn't like me..."

Kurt was getting annoyed, but before he could say anything, Mercedes continued. "Since when do you wait around for other people to decide your life for you? Where's the old 'I know what I'm doing, now get out of my way, Kurt Hummel?'

Kurt glared at Mercedes. "I can't MAKE Blaine like me."

Mercedes nodded. "Right, but you can stop moping around and find out one way or the other."

Quinn touched Kurt's arm. "Wouldn't it be better, Kurt, to know? If Blaine is interested in being more than friends, great, if he's not, then at least you'll know and you can move on."

Kurt looked at both girls. "What am I supposed to say? Blaine, do you like me?"

Mercedes nodded emphatically. "Bingo!"

Kurt recoiled in his seat. "I can't say that!"

The blonde waved her arm at the other girl, shushing her. "OK, if you don't feel comfortable asking him, then we'll have to think of something else."

Kurt looked at Quinn, curious and hopeful. "Like what?"

Mercedes leaned forward and crossed her arms on the table. "Yeah, Quinn, like what?"

Quinn stared at both of them. Not at them, as much as, through them. She bit on her lip and looked down at her lap, thinking. Kurt glanced at Mercedes, she just shrugged.

An idea dawned, and the Cheerio smiled at her friends. "I get that you're not comfortable telling Blaine how you feel, but, you can show him, right?" Green eyes locked onto aqua, willing Kurt to understand her.

He didn't get it. "What do you mean, 'show' him?"

Quinn grimaced. "Show him, Kurt, physically showww him."

Mercedes rolled her eyes. "Kurt, get Blaine alone and jump him!"

Kurt sat back in his chair, crossed his arms, ran a finger over his right eyebrow. "Yeah," he said slowly, "I can do that."

"Your father's out tomorrow night with Carole, right?" Mercedes asked.

"Yes." Kurt nodded. "They're going to something with Carole's family; birthday, engagement, something."

"Good." Quinn was excited. "Meet Blaine for dinner, then take him back to your place."

Mercedes nodded. "Yeah, white boy, text him now." She motioned for Kurt to take out his iPhone.

As Kurt's fingers hesitated on the keypad, Quinn instructed. "Don't meet him at the restaurant. Tell him to come to your place and pick you up."

Kurt raises his eyebrows. Quinn answered the unasked question. "You want him to come back to your place, right? If he picks you up, he has to bring you home."

Kurt nodded. "Right." he smiled at Quinn. "Good point." Kurt's fingers flew over the phone. They all waited for Blaine's response. When the phone vibrated, Kurt jumped. He read the message, sent back a smile icon, and grinned at the girls anxiously watching him. "He'll be at my house, tomorrow, at 7."

Excited squeals; high fives all around!

Quinn was flipping through a magazine, listening to her iPod Saturday afternoon, when her phone buzzed. Seeing Kurt's name, she picked it up. "Hey,"

"You've got to come over here!"

Quinn had never heard Kurt's voice so stressed. "What's wrong?"

"I've been going through my closet for 2 hours and I still can't decide what to wear."

Quinn stared at the phone. "Who is this? Because there is no way that Kurt Hummel can't pick out an outfit!"

Kurt didn't see the humour. "Ha! That's sooooo funny Quinn."

"You're kidding, right? You always look fantastic."

Quinn could hear the exasperation and frustration in the boy diva's voice. "I know I look fantastic! But I can't decide on which fantastic!"

The Cheerio laughed into the phone. "OK, OK, I'll be over in 10 minutes." Still laughing, she pocketed her phone and looked for her car keys.

Burt answered the door. He stepped aside for Quinn to enter. "He's been down there for over 2 hours. All I hear is pacing and groaning and closet doors slamming."

Quinn smiled at Burt, as she walked towards the stairs. "He'll be fine. He's just a little nervous."

Burt closed the front door. "Is this something I should know about?"

"I'm sure he'll tell you all about it tomorrow, Mr. Hummel." Quinn tapped on Kurt's bedroom door.

Kurt pulled Quinn into the room and slammed the door shut. "Finally!" He turned, executing a runway worthy spin, arms out to either side. "So?"

Quinn ran her eyes over him. As usual, he looked amazing. He was wearing black skinny jeans, his beloved knee-high Doc Martens, a shirt in swirling shades of turquoise and green, a vest that picked up the green in the shirt, and a black, green and turquoise scarf that pulled the whole look together. He looked perfect. Magazine perfect...but not touchable. The very perfection was almost like a sign that said, "Don't touch!"

Kurt, watching Quinn carefully, saw the hesitation in her eyes. "What?"

"Kurt, you look amazing!"

The ex-Titan stepped toward the blonde Cheerio. "But?"

Quinn looked down at the floor and then up at Kurt. "Look, this is just my opinion, but you want Blaine to not be able to keep his hands off you, right?"

Kurt nodded. "Right."

Quinn motioned towards Kurt's outfit. "So, you have to look a little more touchable. Less perfect and more 'hot'."

Kurt stared at her for a moment. "And I would do that, how?"

Quinn walked around Kurt, taking a critical look. "The jeans and the boots look great, keep them. The rest of it has got to go." As Kurt started taking off the offending scarf and vest, Quinn walked over to his closet. "You've got a black shirt, right?"

"Yeah, there are a few in there." Kurt unbuttoned his shirt.

"Of course there are." Quinn muttered to herself, running her hands over the hangers until she found a black shirt.

She handed the shirt to Kurt. "Here, put this on."

She turned back to the closet. She knew exactly what she was looking for. Kurt had worn this great jacket to school a few times; a dull red, or wine colour, textured or quilted, something old world about it...there it is!

Kurt tucked the black shirt into his jeans. He shook out the cuffs, looked into the mirror and saw Quinn standing behind him.

The Cheerio nodded. "Better." She handed him the jacket. "Try this."

Kurt shrugged into the jacket, looked in the mirror, and turned to Quinn.

"Wow! You look like a very young, very good-looking Dracula! You look like you could suck Blaine dry." Quinn laughed. "Pun intended. With the jacket on, you look sophisticated and sexy."

She motioned for Kurt to take jacket off. "With the jacket off, you just look hot!"

Kurt grinned and turned back to the mirror. He put his hands on his hips and stared at himself for a second. "What do you think? A belt?"

The blonde nodded in agreement. "Absolutely! You've got something in black leather, right?"

Kurt smirked at her. "Of course."

Quinn smiled and shook her head. "What was I thinking?"

While Kurt looked for the perfect black belt, Quinn picked up his discarded scarf and absently ran it through her fingers. The boy diva returned to the mirror, and fastened the belt around his hips. He met Quin's eyes in the mirror.

"Yep." she nodded. "That's the one."


	8. Chapter 8 Blaine

**Chapter 8: Blaine**

Kurt shrugged into his jacket, tugged at his cuffs, and looked in the mirror. Quinn was right, this was a good look. He walked over to his bedside table to get his wallet, keys and phone. As he pocketed the phone, it buzzed.

"Kurt, I know Blaine is going to be there any minute." Quinn's voice was rushed and urgent. "Two things you need to do: One, when you take your jacket off, unbutton the top buttons of your shirt."

Kurt raised his eyebrows. "And I'm doing this, why?"

"Think of it as a mini strip tease, OK? You take off your jacket, you undo your shirt? Got it?"

Kurt nodded. "Yeah, Ok."

"Two, and this is really important, Kurt. Run your fingers through your hair, now."

Kurt stared at the phone. "What? Are you crazy? I just spent 30 minutes styling it. It's perfect!"

Quinn laughed, visualizing the horrified expression that she knew was on Kurt's face. "I'm sure it is, but you don't want to be too perfect tonight. You want to be hot!"

"And how is having messy hair going to make me hot?" Kurt protested.

"Messy translates into 'just got out of bed' which translates into hot! We're running out of time. Stop arguing with me and just do it."

Kurt put the phone down. He shoved both hands through his hair and ran to the mirror. Smiling, he picked up the phone again. "It's not bad, actually."

"Blaine doesn't stand a chance." Quinn laughed. "Break a leg, Kurt!"

"Thanks, Quinn."

Kurt pocketed his phone, and stepped in front of the mirror. Working on the assumption that if once is good, twice is better, he did the whole fingers through the hair thing again. He could get used to this. It was certainly easier and faster than styling. He checked his watch, 6:55.

Kurt paced the length of the living room, waiting for the doorbell to ring. Good thing Burt had already left to get Carole. Kurt didn't need anyone, especially his dad, seeing him this nervous!

He was nervous, no denying it, but, determined. He was not changing his mind. Blaine either wanted him, or he didn't Tonight, they were going to find out. The doorbell rang. Kurt ran to the door, tearing it open. "Hi."

Blaine smiled. "Hey."

Kurt closed and locked the front door. "Let's go."

Blaine backed his car out of Kurt's driveway. "So, where are we going?"

Kurt had thought about this. There was no way he was taking Blaine to Breadstix, half the school hung out there on a Saturday night. Kurt wanted a little more privacy, thank you. "I'm thinking Chinese?"

Blaine shrugged. "Sure. Which way"?

Kurt gestured right. "Take the next right to Main St."

Blaine glanced over at the boy beside him. "Why am I picking you up? Something wrong with your car"?

Kurt shook his head. "No, I leant my car to Dad. He's got this family party thing with Carole. They're picking up a bunch of people, they needed the Navigator."

Kurt flashed on the image of his car sitting at home in the garage. He expected to feel guilty, but, he didn't. Tonight, Kurt was going with the old adage, 'All's fair in love and war.'

"Dad left me his truck, of course." Kurt turned to Blaine and grinned. "But it didn't go with my outfit."

Blaine looked at the McKinley fashionista, and laughed.

Blaine watched Kurt, as the other boy studied the menu. They had left Kurt's house so quickly that Blaine hadn't had a chance to see what the McKinley student was wearing.

Blaine wasn't adventurous with style. With or without the Dalton uniform, Blaine dressed like the prep kid he was. He got a kick out of Kurt's sartorial creativity. You just never knew what he was going to come up with.

The Warbler ran his eyes over the New Directions diva and realized that something was different. It's not that Kurt wasn't dressed up. Kurt always dressed up. He didn't do casual. Tonight, he had dressed simply, well, simply for Kurt. He was all in black, with a deep wine coloured silk jacket. Not a scarf, vest, or bow tie in sight, no vibrant colours.

He looked good, older somehow, not quite so angelic. Kurt looked up from his menu, smiling, and Blaine thought his heart actually stopped.

He had never seen the other boy with a hair out of place, ever. But tonight, Kurt's hair was actually tousled, not quite wild, but almost. The only thought in Blaine's mind was, **OH MY GOD**!

Kurt smiled, he talked, but Blaine didn't hear a word he said. Blaine felt his fingers twitch. He looked down at his right hand, to find it moving towards the table top, towards Kurt. The lead singer sat on his hand.

"BLAINE!" Kurt waved his hand in front of Blaine's face. "Are you OK?"

Blaine flushed. "Yeah, fine. I'm fine. You ready to order?"

Throughout dinner, Blaine tried valiantly to behave normally. It wasn't a complete success. Kurt sent him concerned, questioning looks a few times, but he didn't say anything, so Blaine could ignore them. It was torture trying to carry on a conversation with Kurt as if everything was fine, while having a heated debate with his hormones and conscience.

_You're supposed to be his friend, Blaine. _

_**Yeah, but, look at him!**_

_Kurt needs time to recover from all that stuff at McKinley. _

_**Do you see his eyes?**_

_You told him you just wanted to be friends. _

**Oh, God! **_**Do you see his hair? It looks so soft; I have to touch it. I want to open his shirt and**_

_I know what you want to do, but is that what Kurt wants, is that what Kurt needs? _

_**I don't know.**_

_Then maybe you should think about this. _

_**Think? I can't think. Look at him!**_

Blaine thought dinner was never going to end.

Neither boy said much on the way home. Kurt was anxious. He really, really wanted Blaine to want this. Kurt moved his right hand below the level of the seat, out of Blaine's line of sight, and crossed his fingers for luck.

Blaine focused on his inner monologue.

_**I want Kurt. **_

_You're supposed to give Kurt time. _

_**I want to rip his clothes off. **_

_You're supposed to help him, not jump him. _

_**Shut up! **_

Blaine parked in Kurt's driveway. Kurt reached to open the car door.

"Bye, Kurt. I'll text you tomorrow."

Kurt looked at his watch. "It's only 8:30, what's your rush?"

Blaine couldn't think of a reason why he shouldn't stay. He didn't want to think of a reason. He wanted to go into that house with Kurt, just the two of them, alone...

The Dalton student looked at his own watch. "No rush."

Blaine stopped at the entrance to the living room.

"Most of the DVDs are in my room." Kurt turned and walked down the hallway.

Kurt opened his bedroom door, and stood aside for Blaine to enter. Blaine watched as Kurt took off his jacket and put it on his desk chair.

Kurt turned, and not taking his eyes off Blaine, undid the top 3 buttons on his shirt.

Blaine swallowed, his eyes locked on the countertenor's hands. He didn't say anything, well, not out loud.

_**God, his skin looks amazing against the black shirt. No wonder Sylvester calls him porcelain.**_

Kurt leaned back against his desk, legs stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankles.

_**Really, really long legs; they look fantastic in those tight jeans and boots. How does he even get those on? How do I get them off?**_

Kurt locked his arms, and curled his fingers around the edge of the desk behind him. The oh, so casual move pulled his shirt tight across his chest, exposing more of his skin. He said nothing. He watched Blaine, watching him.

Blaine couldn't take his eyes off Kurt. He scanned the boy posed in front of him hungrily; from the pale perfection of his throat, highlighted against the black collar, down his torso to his small waist and narrow hips, outlined in the black leather belt.

_**God, he looks hot! Never in a thousand years would he have described Kurt Hummel as sexy. Cute yes, beautiful maybe, but sexy never. He wanted to rip that belt off Kurt and grab his hips in his hands and pull**_

Blaine shook his head, trying to clear his mind. He dragged his eyes away from the taller boy's body and looked straight into his blue/green eyes. "What are you doing, Kurt?" Desire made his voice hoarse.

Kurt stepped away from the desk, and stood very tall and still. "It's really very simple, Blaine. I want you."

The Glee diva walked towards the Warbler, his steps slow and deliberate, elegant and dangerous somehow. The word "stalk" popped into Blaine's mind and he shivered.

"You can say 'Yes', or you can say 'No'." Kurt locked his eyes on Blaine, his beautiful voice very clear. "But I'm only offering once."

Kurt stopped directly in front of Blaine, put his right hand in the centre of Blaine's stomach, moving it slowly upwards over his chest. He grabbed the collar of Blaine's shirt and curled his fingers, bunching the material in his fist. Kurt held Blaine's eyes captive. "Decide."

Staring at Kurt's lips, Blaine licked his own. "Oh, God!"

Kurt smiled. "I'll take that as a 'Yes'."

Leaning into Blaine, Kurt cupped his hand around the back of the shorter boy's head, pulled him close, and seized his mouth.

Kurt had wanted this moment for months, imagined it a thousand times. Nothing he had ever envisioned came even close to the reality. The feel of Blaine in his arms, his warmth and strength, the softness of his lips, was much, much better than anything he had imagined.

Kurt licked Blaine's bottom lip, tugged it between his teeth. Blaine pulled the paler boy closer, his arms wrapping around Kurt's shoulders and waist. Blaine's tongue searched Kurt's mouth. Kurt slid his hand under Blaine's polo shirt, spreading his fingers wide across the Warbler's back, feeling the softness of his skin and the muscles in his shoulders. Blaine grasped the diva's hips, pulling him tighter against him.

Kurt grabbed the Warbler's butt and squeezed. Blaine tore his lips away from Kurt's. "Jesus! Kurt!"

Kurt thrust his pelvis against Blaine. He pulled the Dalton boy's shirt over his head and off. Kurt placed both his hands flat against Blaine's chest. He traced Blaine's ribs, and followed the line of dark hair until it disappeared into the waistband of the Warbler's pants. Kurt leaned down and tongued a nipple, and blew on it. He watched it contract and bit into it.

Blaine groaned and dragged the countertenor's head up. He opened his mouth wide over Kurt's. They were locked at the hips, their erections straining against each other. Blaine unbuckled Kurt's belt and threw it aside. Kurt reached for the zipper on Blaine's jeans.

"Wait!" Blaine looked up at Kurt. "My turn."

Blaine undid the remaining buttons on Kurt's shirt and slid it off him. The Warbler's fingers outlined Kurt's shoulders and arms. He rubbed his thumbs across Kurt's ribs, moved his palms up to caress his nipples.

Kurt closed his eyes on a sigh. He threaded his fingers through Blaine's hair, pulled him close and fused their lips together. This time, when Kurt moved to undo the other boy's zipper, Blaine didn't stop him.

Kurt pushed Blaine's jeans and underwear down. The dark-haired boy stepped back, kicked off his loafers and pulled off his jeans. Kurt tugged Blaine close. He pushed Blaine's head back and took his mouth. Kurt ran his thumb over the head of Blain's cock, spreading pre-cum. He pumped his fist over Blaine's shaft.

Blaine groaned into Kurt's mouth. "God, don't stop."

He dropped his head onto Kurt's shoulder. Kurt feathered kisses across his neck, nipping at his skin, breathing in his scent. Kurt's hand on Blaine's cock moved faster.

Blaine moaned into Kurt's chest, his arms holding Kurt tightly, his hands digging into Kurt's ass. Blaine sank his teeth into Kurt's shoulder, and came in Kurt's hand.

The McKinley student held the Dalton boy until his breathing evened out, running his fingers lightly over his back and through his hair. Blaine leaned on Kurt, waiting to recover, and felt Kurt's erection throbbing through his jeans.

Blaine kissed and sucked at Kurt's chest, as he reached to undo Kurt's jeans. He slid the jeans and underwear down Kurt's legs until they caught on the knee-high Doc Martens.

He looked up at Kurt. "Jesus Christ, Kurt, how the hell do I get these things off you?" Blaine growled in frustration.

Kurt laughed. He sat down on his bed and unlaced his boots. He pulled off his socks and skinny jeans, and stretched out on the bed. He leaned back on his elbows, smiling at the head Warbler. "Happy now?"

Blaine's eyes devoured a finally naked Kurt; all long legs and pale skin. Kurt's penis was flushed and hard and fucking edible. The Warbler dropped to his knees in front of the McKinley voice, shoved his legs apart, grabbed his hips. He pushed his mouth down Kurt's shaft until the head of Kurt's penis hit the back of his throat. Blaine worked his tongue around and over Kurt. He curled his hand around the base of Kurt's penis, and moved his mouth and hand as one unit. Kurt dug his hands into Blaine's shoulders, and threw his head back. He tensed and shuddered and came in Blaine's mouth.

The boys lay stretched out on Kurt's bed, cuddled into each other.

Kurt ran his fingers through Blaine's despised curls. "So, not just friends anymore?"

Blaine shook his head and traced a finger over Kurt's hip. "I can't believe I was so blind! I just never imagined you could be like this."

Kurt raised his eyebrows. "What was so different tonight?"

Blaine stared at the ceiling, thinking. "I don't know... I think it was your hair."

Kurt didn't say anything. He just smiled and held Blaine tighter, and made a mental note to call Quinn in the morning and say thank you!

Quinn brushed her teeth, and got undressed. She walked over to her dresser and opened the middle drawer. With a tender touch, she caressed Kurt's scarf. The turquoise/green/black one he had modeled that afternoon. She ran her fingers over the scarf and sighed. She and Kurt would be friends forever, yes, but she was really going to miss their games!

**The End**


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